


First Hit

by NormanBabcock



Category: Hotline Miami (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormanBabcock/pseuds/NormanBabcock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacket decides to call up his ex girlfriend to tell her about some of the things he's been up to. After all, it's good to catch up, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Hit

**Author's Note:**

> Jacket talks about some pretty rough things at one point (some being sexually implied, but mainly just tons of gore and violent actions), so if that makes you uncomfortable, read with caution. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

The phone rang.

I remember it clearly, y’know. Hearing that phone ring. I’d been expecting it all day, wondering when the hell ‘they’ would call. Whoever the hell they were, I didn’t really care at the time. They offered cash, I needed cash. Last thing I wanted to do was go back to my job and ask for it back, fuck that.

I’ve always been a stubborn person, you know that.

So I answered, didn’t even get time to talk to whoever it was who left the message, so I listened to that instead. A voice told me, some guy I’d never heard; ‘Hey! This is ‘Tim’, from the bakery? The cookies you ordered should be delivered by now. A list of ingredients are included. Make sure you read them carefully!’, a click, then nothing.

Well, that’s one way to be discreet, I guess. Whatever.

So I go out the door, figuring that whatever this ‘delivery’ was would be downstairs in the mail boxes. Next thing I know, my foot hits a bag, and below me is this shitty wrapped up bag of god only knows what. I pick it up, check if it has any source on it. None, as figured.

I open the thing, expecting some kind of weapon, like a gun. I mean, that’s the kind of shit I would need, right? So you’d figure they would have at least given me a gun. Instead, there’s some papers, and a huge, rubber mask of a  _chicken._

A fucking  _chicken_.

Out of all of the ways I had to be ‘discreet’, and they give me this damn thing. Whatever, not like there’s anything I can do about it.

So I take this thing in my hands, and I’m lookin’ through it. It’s empty, unfortunately. For some reason there’s a little slip of paper on the inside, attached to the ‘skin’ of this thing, and it read ‘Richard’. Great, no gun for me, but they decided to give me a mask with a name. I noticed they’ve given me some papers with it, and on the papers it explains to me where I need to go, and what I have to do. Get this suitcase, get out of there, don’t get caught. Sounded simple, nothin’ too bad.

So I go do this job.

I’m still shaking.

It wasn’t hard, I mean. The job itself. Fuck, it was just—

Blood is warm.

Like, _really warm_.

Not that you really expect it to be cold, or anything, but. I’m just— I’m wailing on this guy, and I mean really beating the fuck out of him. I was able to punch him, knock his bat out of his hand, then I had to beat his brains in. I mean, there can’t be any witnesses, right? I can’t risk gettin’ caught, and I’m sure as hell not going to jail. I guess you could say the chicken mask came in handy, in this case.

So yeah, I beat him till his skull is wide open.

Brains are surprisingly very _pink_.

Say, that was your favorite color, wasn’t it babe? I think it was, anyway. I remember you had these nice pink slippers, they always looked so cute on you.

Anyway, after i’m done with that guy, I had to go through a couple others. I just kept the bat, I mean, it was probably the best I’m gonna get, right? So I’m plowing through them, cause I need to get out of here, and _fast_. The suitcase was guarded by a couple guys, but I was able to knock ‘em both down pretty easy. I mean, I had to throw the bat at one and put him down, before I punched the other guy. Then I just, y’know, picked it up again, beat them up, killed the guy with the suitcase, and grabbed it.

I mean, i’m makin’ it sound harder than it was. It totally was easy.

So then I hear this loud ass noise, and i’m thinkin’, oh, fuck, I hope the cops aren’t here. So I go downstairs, cause there’s no way in hell I’m gettin’ out any other way, and it’s just two more of those— I think they’re gangsters? They sure looked like gangsters.

So I surprise one by knocking him in the back of the head with the suitcase, and I beat him with that. Surprisingly, the suitcase didn’t break open, but I guess I didn’t consider that at the time. While I was doing it, I was thinking, y’know, that suitcase looked like yours. I mean, the one you kept under the bed, before you left. It was a little more dull, but it looked like yours.

Anyway, I did the same to the other guy, though that was a little harder, since he was runnin’ right at me while I was wailing on this other guy.

Then I got in the car, and I drove. I had to go to this alleyway a couple blocks away.

So I get out, and drop off this suitcase in the dumpster. I mean, I figured I was at least gonna meet some guy, and give him the damn thing, but whatever. Discretion and all that. 

Then all of a sudden, I hear this burp behind me, down around the corner. A guy, some hobo, starts yellin’ at me. Asking what i’m doing, why i’m here. He sounded pretty damn drunk, but that gets my heart racing.

Well, I’ve still got the mask on, so I’m pretty glad I didn’t take the damn thing off, but I could tell this guy was definitely gonna remember me. I mean, i’m covered in blood, and I just dumped this fucking suitcase in a dumpster. So, what else can I do?

So I run up to the guy, and I grab him, and slam him on the ground. I get on my knees, grab his greasy hair, and I start pounding his head up, and down, and up, and down. Kinda made me remember some things, babe. That we used to do, I mean. I miss those things, y’know?

Anyway, I was kinda shook up after that. I mean, I got kinda sick to my stomach, cause all of a sudden the smell of blood got stronger after I beat that guy to death, but I remained calm. I was always able to keep my cool, y’know? I think I was, anyway. You always said I was bad for snapping at you, but I definitely think i’m doin’ a lot better.

So, yeah. I just wanted to call you, tell you that I hope you’re doin’ well. You and— uh, what’s his name? I hope you’re doing alright. Just wanted to call you, hope you’re doing we—

Oh, I gotta go babe.

The phone rang earlier, and I have a message to hear.


End file.
